Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Congo and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Lindisfarne to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Tres Demented,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
KRS-One,
One Last Wish,
Camouflage,
The Moody Blues,
Bad Manners,
Simply Red,
Marmalade,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fugs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rapeman,
Radio Birdman,
Soft Machine,
Nirvana,
Black Flag,
Excepter,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Derrick Morgan,
Skarface,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
E-Dancer,
The Mojo Men,
Lungfish,
Ossler,
Sixth Finger,
Make Up,
Tommy Roe,
the Soft Cell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eurythmics,
L. Decosne,
Wally Richardson,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Cale,
Lyres,
Gang of Four,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
Al Stewart,
Black Moon,
CMW,
Mad Mike,
Fear,
Delta 5,
The Cowsills,
Kayak,
Hot Snakes,
Cymande,
Talk Talk,
Loose Ends,
Bronski Beat,
Ralphi Rosario,
Radiohead,
Flash Fearless,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fugazi,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Star Department,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.